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#projecting; oh john how you are projecting
gloomwitchwrites · 8 hours
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Still in love/obsessed ex-husband
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A still in love and obsessed ex-husband can be answered in various ways. I thought I'd make this one a little loosey goosey and stretch the definition of "ex-husband" here a tad bit. I also split "still in love" and "obsessed." My personal HC about these characters actions around those two phrases will certainly vary.
Anyway, here are four quick drabbles on the topic (And thank you for your patience as I fulfill requests.)
Find the Imagines & What If Series Masterlist HERE
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): reconciliation, fluff, light angst, suggestive themes, swearing, marriage, strained and established relationships, stalking
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“I still have it.”
“Have what?” you ask.
“Your wedding dress,” answers John.
“I told you to return it. And the ring.”
John shakes his head. “Couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still in my closet.”
“You don’t want to.”
“No.”
“Why?” you ask.
“You know why, love.”
You sigh. “Did you sign the papers?”
“No,” he answers automatically. “Why would I? When you’re clearly still in love with me.”
“John.”
“You promised me an army.”
“I’ve given you three,” you murmur, thinking of your children with him.
John smiles, and you melt. “We can make number four right here.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“What’s this?”
“Nothing.”
“Show me.”
You keep your hand behind your back. Johnny grins down at you, one eyebrow raised. Johnny is fast, snagging your arm and bringing your hand into the light.
His gaze drops to the diamond on your finger.
“You still wear it,” he breathes.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, love. It does.” He steps closer, one warm hand cupping your cheek.
You lean into him, not wanting to admit out loud what still holds true in your heart.
“You still love me,” he teases.
“And?” you prompt.
He draws you close. “And I still want you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Signing this won’t change anything. You know this.”
Kyle is right and you hate that he is. Grasping the back of your neck, Kyle threads his fingers through your hair. Twisting. Gripping. Arching your neck.
He draws you forward, lips nearly brushing over yours. “You know I’d burn everything down for you. Walk any distance. I will never be rid of you. Never.”
Kyle’s words are searing. They sit heavy in your chest.
“Do you not feel the same?” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”
The divorce papers are scattered across the kitchen table.
You swallow. “Shred them.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Ghost is a wraith.
He watches from the shadows. He knows your every step, who you talk to, and what your day looks like. He has always known. Even before you called him husband—and before that boyfriend—Ghost learned your habits.
He sits. Waits.
You glance over your shoulder with no idea how close he is, trying to find his in. Because he will. He will have you.
The current boyfriend will disappear.
Just like the last one.
Because Ghost made it happen.
All he needs is time and then, he can put his ring back on your finger.
Taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior
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inafieldofdaisies · 10 months
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Last Line Paragraph Tag | Tagged by @cassietrn and @detectivelokis ❤️
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"I-I, I looked at her once. Patty. I know I shouldn't have.", Daniel Wallace said meekly. John raised an eyebrow at the poor excuse, sensing his lie from a mile away, "Now, you sure all you did was look, Daniel?", "Fine. Once. It happened once." "Just once?" Wallace groaned in pain as John pursed his lips and tapped his injured leg, compelling him to grit out, "No." "Well, I'm listening. Details, Daniel. Determining your sin requires details. And, it would be in your best interest to reconsider lying to me." A familiar look of hatred fell over the man's face, "Joseph makes ya listen to our sex stories now? You that desperate? That your only way of gettin' some?" It wasn't Wallace's voice that John heard at that moment or who he imagined was sitting in his chair. No. The frail tone was out of a sudden sounding arrogant, stronger, resembling Hartley's. Before he could stop himself, his hand drove the knife back into his leg, making Daniel release another scream that only worsened the wretched headache further. "Details. I won't repeat myself again." And sure, I don't have better things to do than listen to your pathetic love life, Daniel.
Tagging @clicheantagonist @direwombat @poisonedtruth @nightbloodbix @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @euryalex @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @vampireninjabunnies-blog @theelderhazelnut @clonesupport @voidika @josephslittledeputy @schoute @v0idbuggy @socially-awkward-skeleton @trench-rot @strangefable @sstewyhosseini @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @florbelles @madparadoxum and anyone else that would like to do the tag ❤️
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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idk if this question makes sense its like 2am and i cant think of the right words but what moment do you think made each of the boys start taking up the daddy role in the readers life like when they went oh she needs me like that
୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀
i’ve definitely spoken about this with pope before but ‘daddy’ just accidentally slips out your mouth during sex and it all kinda just clicks for him. he realises because you’re so shy and reserved you need him to do the thinking and make the decisions sometimes, and because he’s so devoted to you he just wants to make you happy and treats it like a project, doing tonnes of research into the different types of ‘daddy’ roles and how to treat someone who has that kinda kink.
rafe just decides one day that he’s daddy and you don’t argue. he’s heard of it before of course, but it’s never quite clicked until he met you. you’re just so needy and look to him for everything, and plus he’s got this huge complex about being ‘dad’ because he has to be in charge of everything or he spirals. daddy just makes sense and it gets his dick hard. oh also, he’s a ‘problem solver’ and has no choice but to step in when he finds out you have daddy issues
jj knows it through porn tbh, but to him it just feels kinda normal and casual. he’s always saying stuff like “come to papa” and ‘daddio’ and all these phrases that point to him taking on that role, so when you eventually approach him about it all shy, rocking on his thigh and asking if it’s okay you call him daddy he doesn’t see it as a big deal and he’s just like “yeah, sweetcheeks. don’t even gotta ask.”
john b sees what you need and steps up. he’s naturally nurturing and dominant, so pair him with someone sweet and in need, and he’s in his prime daddy element. he’s always had the kink i think, before he even met you, fantasising about being someones ‘daddy’ because it makes him feel needed. he adjusts everything to your needs, so daddy is just the perfect title for him idk
୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀
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bitterkarella · 4 months
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Midnight Pals: Muse
Anna Helen Crofts: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, this is a little story that me and howard wrote together Barker: you and howard? how'd that happen? HP Lovecraft: oh we've been looking for a project to do together for a while
Edward Lee: bro you hanging with anna helen crofts now? Lovecraft: yeah Lee: bro Lee: sonia greene, winifred jackson, hazel heald Lee: how are you pulling all this quality tail? Lovecraft: i don't know, i'm just being myself Lee: Lee: bro that doesn't make any sense
Crofts: ok so this story is about a woman who reads a poetry book Crofts: and she has a dream that the gods themselves appear to her Crofts: and they're all 'babe, we got some great news for you' Crofts: you're so hot that you're gonna fuck some inspiration into the world's greatest poet
Crofts: the gods are all 'check it out' Crofts: 'you know Dante Alighieri? William Shakespeare? John Milton?' Crofts: 'morons!' Crofts: 'the guy you're gonna fuck is SO much better'
Angela Carter: a woman's just there to be a muse for a great man, huh? Carter: why can't a woman be a poet herself, I ask you? Crofts: no angela you don't understand Crofts: this chick is SO hot Carter: that doesn't figure into it Patricia Highsmith: naw i think it does
Crofts: me and howard wrote this story together Barker: oh did you now? Poe: clive Barker: i can tell, cuz it's definitely got all the usual hallmarks of a howard story Poe: clive Barker: i bet howard really contributed a lot Poe: clive
Crofts: wouldn't that be great to be a muse Crofts: a poet looks at you, he's all 'this chick is SO hot' Crofts: 'i can't NOT write the world's greatest poem' Crofts: if you think about it, howard Crofts: that's kinda like you and me, don't you think? Lovecraft: yeah i guess
Crofts: something wrong, howard? Lovecraft: no Lovecraft: no it's nothing Lovecraft: its just Lovecraft: that isn't really the direction i thought our collaboration would take Crofts: what's wrong with it? Lovecraft: it's just kinda mushy
Crofts: ok howard well next time we'll write what you want to write Crofts: in fact, here Crofts: why don't you use my beauty as inspiration Crofts: i'll be your muse Barker: ah ha ha Barker: oh honey Barker: oh sweetie Barker: have you read any of howard's stories?
Crofts: write me, howard, write me like one of your squid girls Lovecraft: [sweats] ok um so Lovecraft: [sweats] so in this story there's this girl, ok Crofts: what's she like Lovecraft: indescribable Crofts: Barker: ah aha ha Barker: nice save
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dragonofthedepths · 1 year
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On Display 5.2.23
DP x DC. Clockwork, Danny Phantom, John Constantine. Ghost King Danny.
"Oh no." The words were filled with a quite horror.
John Constantine grimaced. "You can feel it too?"
"How could you not?" Shazam was starring horror struck at the scene of the screen in front of them, Zatana just behind him. "They're family."
John turned away from the screen. He didn't need to watch it to know what was going on, it just provided context for the helpless fear and all-consuming protective rage echoing across the world that any idiot with a smidgen of magical sensitivity could feel. "Well, obviously some idiots are managing to miss that memo. We need to stop this now." He turned. "Bats, stay out of this one."
"What? Why?" Batman -predictably- growled.
"Because this is not the time for your morals," this was not the time for the Justice League to be involved, but the very public broadcast had made keeping it to just the Justice League Dark impossible, "he's going to kill them, and we are going to stand out of his way and let him, unless it's to hold them down for his swing. And hope he doesn't hold the whole planet responsible and start a cross-dimnsional war with us!"
Being ancient and being powerful does not mean being invulnerable. A group of cultists successfully capture Clockwork, planning to use him as a scapegoat/sacrifice to summon the Ghost King. Once the ritual starts they have three hours to plead their case before the summoned King the circle breaks and he is released into the world.
Clockwork makes an incredibly powerful, enticing, and rare sacrifice, what Ghost King would turn that down?
One who's just had his family tortured in front of him for three hours.
Unfortunately for the cultists, Danny loves his mentor, and their fate was sealed from the moment they put their hands on him.
The Justice League/Justice League Dark are racing to rescue Clockwork before the 3 hours is up, to try to lighten the King's ire as much as they can. Sam and Tucker are also racing to find Clockwork and stop the cultists as quick as they can (and probably a bit more willing to break kneecaps to see it done).
Day (618/100) in my #∞daysofwriting @the-wip-project 8th of Feb. Okay technically I wrote almost all the prose between the dialogue today, but I didn’t want to leave it empty T-T T-T T-T
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mistydeyes · 6 months
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Hey hey! I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but if you are, can I please request headcanons of Price being a father of 5 girls?
AHHHHH thank you for requesting anon! Ugh I love this idea especially Price having a lil army of the best daughters (also come on look at this picture my heart!!)
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summary: When you and Price first started dating, you wouldn't imagine having a small army of daughters but look at you now!
pairing: John Price x spouse!Reader
warnings: none :)
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When you and Price were married and the topic of children came up, you both agreed on wanting to have a sizeable one
Oh how you laughed when you said you wanted only about 2-3
Now you were 15 years into it with 5 daughters of various ages
Soap had a running joke that you had your very own "army"
Despite your eye rolls and Price's stern glare, you adored your family
Each one of their names was something special to the both of you, memories of close family members and friends or the name of a place close to your heart
Despite your naming conventions, Price comes up with creative ways to nickname your children
However your favorite is when he looks at you all and calls you his, "loves"
Every one of your daughter has their own unique personality and it's always a constant competition to gain the affections of their father
Phone calls are a mess with the cacophony of updates and accomplishments
Price still has the fatherly command to have them all in order (with you obviously going first, he adores your updates- no matter how small)
Your home is what you and Price like to call an "organized mess"
Living with five girls ranging from mid teens to toddler means that there is always something going on in your home
From your youngest's newest art project for her papa to your oldest's latest makeup and skincare taking over the sink, every two weeks you reserve time for an entire house refresh
As you all go around trying to make sense of it all, you gently scold Price (if he's home) for buying your daughter's everything under the sun
He can't deny he loves spoiling his favorite girls (especially you)
When he goes on long trips and finally returns, you make a small tradition of waiting up for him with your daughters
You'll all gather in the living room and excitedly rush to the door when you hear the keys turn in the lock
If it's not to late, he'll be returning with a bouquet of flowers specifically picked for each one of you
Obviously yours is the biggest and your house is filled with laughter as Price looks for vases for you all
You love mornings when you wake and you can smell the kitchen filled with delicious aromas of a fresh breakfast
In a baggy t-shirt and shorts, Price is gently directing your youngest daughters on how to make the perfect pancake while your older daughters are making orange juice, coffee, and tea
“Mama look what we made,” your second youngest would call and Price would gently kiss your forehead as you tried their chocolate chip pancakes
Despite the chaos and pancake batter splatter, you would all make your way to the dining table
There you would smile, enjoying having your husband home and your not-so-little family
This moment of serenity would be broken by Price saying he invited the 141 over along with their families and spouses
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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can you release another let me,angel chapter on jan 28 bc it’s my birthday 😁😁😁😁😁
You Need To Talk To Daddy, Baby
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.6K
A/N: Happy Birthday, Anon! I hope it's okay that this is after their uni days.
Masterlist
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Asher runs up to his mother, who is waiting outside of the elementary school for her son. Y/N takes him into her arms and carries him to the car. She gets the six-year-old buckled into his car seat before getting into the driver’s seat. The car ride home was filled with a mini-concert between the mother and son. When they get home, they both notice the car in the driveway. Rafe swings the door open at the sound of his wife’s engine and jogs out in his work suit. Asher is quick to hop into his father’s arms. The family heads into the house and goes to get a snack in the kitchen. “Mommy, are Auntie Sarah and Uncle John still coming over tomorrow?” Asher asks with the heel of his feet hitting the cabinet. Y/N looks up from the tea she is making, “Yes, Baby. They are coming for dinner. Why do you want to know?” “Because I have to write about my hero for homework and I want to write about Uncle John,” her son announces. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board stops at what Asher says. Y/N glances at her husband to see the frown on his face. He places his cutting tool down on the board and leaves the room.
“Rafe, wait,” Y/N tries to halt her husband. He doesn’t listen as he makes his way into their bedroom. The mother turns to her son and approaches him. “What’s wrong with Daddy?” Asher worries, trying to get down from the counter. Y/N keeps him on the counter, “I think he is a little hurt that he isn’t your hero.” The young boy’s face matches his father’s frown. “But he is my hero.”
“Then why do you want to write about Uncle John?”
“Because Mrs. Greenway said that we can’t write about our parents. She wants us to talk to other people.”
“Oh, well I think you need to talk to Daddy, Baby. Maybe explain that to him.”
Asher nods and holds his hand up so Y/N can help him down. She helps him off of the counter, watching him as he goes to talk to Rafe. Rafe turns at the sound of footsteps approaching the room. He turns in the other direction to wipe his tears away. He knows it’s a little silly to be upset about not being his son’s hero, most kids wouldn’t say their parents either, but it digs into Rafe’s fear of not being a good enough father. If Rafe isn’t Asher’s hero, then does that mean Asher doesn’t feel safe with him? Does that mean that Rafe isn’t providing for his son? “Daddy?” The tike’s voice spins Rafe toward him. “Hey, Bud. Is everything okay?” Rafe questions, going to pick his son up. Asher nods, “I’m sorry I made you sad, Daddy.” “It’s okay. You didn’t mean to, Bud. Why don’t you tell me more about your project? Do you need to interview Uncle John?” Rafe reassures his son. Asher gives a small smile, “Yes, Mrs. Greenway gave me a paper with the questions. I have to write the answer on the line. Daddy?” Rafe watches his son look up at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, Bud?” “You are my hero. I have to ask Uncle John the questions because Mrs. Greenway said I can’t ask Mommy or Daddy,” the boy explains.
A wide grin grows on Rafe’s face and Y/N watches from the doorway as her husband pulls their son into a hug. “How about we photocopy your assignment so you can interview Daddy too? Daddy could put it in his office,” she suggests. Rafe flinches at the surprise that his wife is in the room. Asher turns to his mother and his head vigorously moves up and down. “Yeah! I want to in-ter-view Daddy,” he agrees. Y/N starts toward the home office and Rafe follows her in tow. The family spends the afternoon interviewing each other and now, those transcripts are proudly displayed on their kitchen fridge.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover
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ninjaturtlemaniac · 2 months
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Part 5 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas
Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10
BroZone - All of the brothers share habits and mannerisms without even realising. E.g. tapping their chin when they're thinking hard, cracking knuckles when they're about to really get into a project, tapping toes when anxious.
Bruce - just starts being a Dad to everyone without realizing it e.g. cuts food into smaller bites, starts randomly folding people's clothes, licking his finger and wiping food off faces, always having snacks and bandaids in his hair.
Bruce - sleeps wearing a hair bonnet and continues his extensive skincare routine into adulthood.
Bruce - grew a full beard once. Then he had babies. They became obsessed with pulling his beard. No more beard.
Bruce - his kids have buried him in the sand more times than he cares to admit.
Clay - has no fuss, no fun breakfast. Plain toast or fibre cereal.
Clay - itching to hook Pop Village up with electricity.
Clay - was definitely the problem child. Being the middle child in a house full of teenage boys, coupled with the constant threat of Bergens with a sprinkling of John Dory as an older brother results in an angry little Troll boy.
Clay - his hardcore fans were known as Claydies.
John Dory - does not own pyjamas, falls asleep in what he wore that day.
John Dory - has a midlife crisis when all the Trollings in Pop village thought he was Branch's dad.
John Dory - has had several concussions and plenty of broken bones. Got very good at applying first aid to himself.
John Dory - makes his own Moonshine
Floyd - plans to get more body mods in the future.
Floyd - when asked about his past he describes it as 'colourful'. People are yet to find out what he means by this.
Floyd - kept two copies of his own album. He was going to give the other to Grandma Rosiepuff for her collection.
Floyd - when performing solo he does 10 push ups and drinks tea before going on stage. (Apparently Troye Sivan does this and I could see Floyd doing it too 😁)
Viva - she reeeaaalllyyy wants to braid all of Bruce's hair. And Brandy's. And their kids. And oh look how much hair Vacationers have!
Viva - is worried that Clay doesn't need her around anymore.
Viva - wants to have children. Lots of them!
Branch - he is very, VERY aware that by marrying Poppy one day he would become King. In secret he plans. And plans. And plans. Mr. Survivalist Troll handles this new fear the way he usually does; with over-preparedness!
Tiny Diamond - the best wingman! E.g. He's hanging out with JD and starts playing up the baby image to lure in the ladies. "I wuv you Uncle John. You're my best friend!" And the ladies are like "Aww!" Tiny whispers "You're welcome"
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abellalu · 3 months
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A Night Unexpected (One-Shot)
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Summary: A hard-working lab researcher encounters Loki during a late night working and can not help, but feel captivated by him. However, when the researcher agrees to go on a date with her brash co-worker, Loki ends up saving the day (or at least the date). Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader Word Count: 2.6k
The lab was quiet except for the light hum of the machines. During the day, the lab could feel like it would burst from the noise with all the scientists working on their projects and yelling over the music that Tony Stark insists is required for inventing. Everyone else had already gone home for the night, and now it was just you sitting at your station.
You heard the door squeak and a light footstep. When you turned around, you expected to see another one of your coworkers coming back to retrieve a forgotten item, but instead were greeted by a different presence, Loki. 
“I expected you might be in here,” Loki said, illuminated by only the light in the hallway. Despite the darkness of the lab, you could still see the sharp angles of his face and his gentle smile to you. 
“I suppose I have become predictable,” you laugh quietly. “I just enjoy being able to have some time to myself and thoughts, away from all the chaos.”
“I apologize for interrupting your thoughts. What are you working on now that requires you here so late?”
“It’s not that late Loki, it’s only-” you look at the clock, “I suppose the time got away from me again.”
He laughs and slowly sits down on the stool next to you. “You are very dedicated to your work, I-” he pauses, “It’s admirable how much care you put into the things you love.” 
You look up at him, stunned by what he just said. Your mouth is slightly agape as you try to think of a response. Does he truly think I’m admirable? This is a man who works with the Avengers, who helped save Asgard. Eventually you close your mouth and look down at your work, so Loki continues.
“Tell me more about what you’re working on,” He said with a smile, eyes looking at you with anticipation.
“Are you sure? I tend to ramble and I can get distracted easily.” You laugh pitifully. “I might bore you to death from my talking.”
“I don’t think so, I think you- I mean, your work is quite captivating and I don’t mind rambling.” 
You stare at him for a second, then clear your throat, “Well, I did make a discovery with the sample I was studying…” 
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The next morning, you can not stop your mind from wandering back to your conversation with Loki. You’ve always had a different perspective of him than many others. While others saw him as cold and distant, you saw how curious he was, the remarkable intelligence he had. Every conversation you had with him, he showed genuine interest and kindness towards you. 
However, last night, Loki showed admiration for not just your work but for you as a person. In the dark lab, the conversation felt more intimate, and you made yourself more vulnerable to another person than you have for a long time. 
But then doubt starts. What if he was simply being polite? It is hard to wrap your mind around the idea that someone like Loki could truly care about you and not judge for being overly passionate.
As you continued to walk to the lab, you heard someone call your name behind you. While turning around, you feel your heart longing for it to be Loki. But when you look back, you see your coworker John. 
He was nice to work with. He generally completed all his research in a timely manner and he had a contagious laugh that always lifted the spirits of the lab even after tiring days. Yet, you still had to hide your disappointment with a polite smile. 
“Hello John, did you need something?” 
“I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.” His hands are in his pockets and he shows off his wide white smile. “It’s rare I get to catch you outside of the lab, I wanted to take advantage of this moment.” 
“Oh, well I’ve just been working on my research and I have made some interesting discoveries and I-” 
“You work too hard,” John interrupts. “What do you like to do outside of work?” 
You pause, while certainly your work isn’t your entire life, you care deeply about your research. Does Loki think I’m odd? “Um well, I like-” 
“See this is what I’m talking about, you gotta explore life outside of the lab.” You stare at him considering what he said.
John continues, “Listen, I will be quite frank. I think you are beautiful and I’m hoping you can take some time away from the lab and go out to dinner with me.”
“Oh,” You are thrown off guard by his request. Sure John was always nice, but you never expected him to have any interest in you. 
But maybe you should take advantage of the opportunity. It has been awhile since you’ve been asked out and maybe John was right, you need to spend some time away from the lab.
You hesitate, but finally you take a deep breath, “Yes, I would love to.” You force yourself to give him another smile.
“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” John walks closer to you, instantly you feel as though your space is being invaded. “How about tomorrow night then? I’m excited to see you outside of this compound, see you all dressed up.” He smirks.
“Alright, sounds good.” You look away from him and quicken your pace as you continue on to the lab. It’s good to get outside of your comfort zone, this is good for you, you keep reminding yourself.
Around the corner, Loki overhears your conversation with John. 
Loki never liked John, he reminded him too much of Thor before he got sent to Earth. He can tell you’re uncomfortable from the way you make yourself smaller and your voice being only slightly louder than a whisper.
Loki can’t stop the pang of hurt he feels when he hears you say “yes.” He knows he shouldn’t feel it, that the two of you are barely even friends and you can go and date whoever you like. Still, he wishes that you did not feel pressured to agree, he wishes that he was the one to ask you first. 
All he can hope is that John treats you well.
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Loki doesn’t know why he is walking past the lab. He knew you wouldn’t be there tonight, that you would be busy with your date. He grimaces just thinking about it. Loki knows that he is jealous. Jealous that John gets to spend time with you, to hear you laugh. 
But he will keep that jealousy to himself if it means you being happy.
The door is open to the lab and Loki can hear the clattering of tools. That’s peculiar, no one ever works this late. No one except one. Curious, Loki sticks his head through the doorway, only to find the person he least expects. 
“John, what are you doing here,” Loki demands. He tried to keep his voice level. John shouldn’t be here, he should have already left for your date. 
“Ah shit, Loki you scared me,” John grunts. “I had a project I needed to finish before Stark gets on my ass about it, so now I’m stuck here.”
“Shouldn’t you be on your date?” Loki wonders if maybe it was canceled, that you were simply having a night in away from this imbecile man. 
“I know it sucks, I’ll text her later telling her what happened. She’ll understand since she can be such a workaholic freak sometimes.” 
Any composure Loki was then gone, he felt his fists tighten as he stared John down, “You don’t tell her that you would make it.” Loki’s voice is just below a yell, John flinches. “And how dare you call her a freak, she is more dedicated to her work then anyone else here and she should be praised for it. But you,” Loki says gravelly, slowly getting closer to John. “You feel as though you can belittle her for it. And as if you weren’t wasting her time enough by asking for a date, you didn’t even bother to show up”
“Listen, I was planning on showing up,” John trembles. “Work just got the best of me and I gotta stay here for the night. She won’t mind being alone, I chose a nice restaurant too.”
Alone. You are alone right now. 
Loki realizes he needs to change that ultimately. John is a later problem, he can deal with him later. Loki quickly runs out of the room with a plan.
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There you are, at a restaurant you can’t afford and far more uptight than you prefer. The lighting is low, but instead of feeling relaxed like when you turn down the lights in the lab, you just feel anxiety.
John hasn’t arrived yet. Your leg is bouncing up and down, as you try to calmly look for him. To see if he is lurking in any of the shadows. 
You had left work early today, well early for you, to have time to get ready. You searched through your closet trying to find something acceptable for the date (eventually you found an old pencil dress you had bought for a grad school reception) and pulled your hair up into a tight updo. 
As you sat at your table, you continued to watch more couples sit down and their orders be taken. You check your phone, he is 20 minutes late. Well that it isn’t too late I guess, maybe I was just too early. 
And so you continue to wait. You want for a man you don’t even care for and who likely doesn’t care about you simply because he made you uncomfortable. He made you feel as though he was your only option.
But then you see a man weaving through the crowd, mumbling quick apologies. Was John always so tall? 
Loki. Loki came.
As he gets closer, you can see his raven black hair is a mess with curls in all different directions. He is wearing a white button down with slacks and a blazer. Such a formal outfit looks natural on him.
“I’m so sorry,” Loki says as he sits down across from you. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”
“Loki, what are you doing here? I’m supposed to be,” he cuts you off.
“Slight change of plans, you came here to have dinner with your date. Only the date has changed, simply as that.” Loki settles into his seat and starts looking at the menu as though there was nothing odd about the situation.
“Loki, you can’t be serious,” you sigh. “Listen, John is going to be here any moment, this isn’t funny.” God, you are so tired of this day. You just want to go home and be by yourself. Screw going outside of your comfort zone. 
“I am being serious.” Loki looks directly at you. For a moment, you wish to look away, but you can’t help staring at his blue eyes. “Unlike that idiot man who originally was going to be here, I’ll admit he was clever to ask you out, I should have done it first. But he was always just going to take advantage of your time whether he came or not.”
You froze, your mind could not comprehend what Loki just said to you. You should ask about why John isn’t here. But all thoughts and questions are just about Loki. “What do you mean you should have done it first?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, I wished I asked you to go on a date with me first.” He leans forward. “When I am in the same room as you, I am constantly astonished by you. The way you speak with such passion,” he smiles sadly. “The way you are always kind to me, I don’t deserve your kindness. I think that’s the reason why I’ve avoided asking you to spend more time with me. It’s silly though because then I just ended up always walking by the lab late at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”
“And I was always there.” You give him a soft smile. “I think you are too hard on yourself, all the kindness I’ve shown you, you deserve. Just look at what you’ve done for me tonight. You showed up. If anything I don’t deserve your kindness, I shouldn’t be surprised John didn’t show up-”
“You’re wrong,” he laughs softly. “Maybe we are both too hard on ourselves. All I know is that you are an intelligent, thoughtful, and beautiful woman.” You feel your cheeks get warm and try to resist a smile. “I just hope I can be good company for the night.” Loki gives you a shy smile, only now you realize that he is just as nervous as you about making a good impression.
You take his hand resting on the table into yours and give him a gentle squeeze, “I know you will be more than good company.”
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You and Loki are walking side-by-side, your arms occasionally lightly touching each other. After you shivered when a particularly cool breeze passed by, Loki gave you his jacket. The sidewalk was mostly dark except for the shine of the lamps and the moon.
The walk back to your apartment took much longer than it should have, but you didn’t care. If the two of you took the wrong corner a couple of times, so be it. During your dinner, the two of you talked and laughed the entire time. But now you are walking in a comfortable silence just feeling comforted by the other’s presence. 
Eventually though, all good things come to an end and you reach the entrance of your apartment building.
You look up at him and break the silence, “This is where I live.” 
“Oh, I see,” Loki says quietly. “I’m glad I could get you home safely.”
You smile, “I’m glad too. Thank you, not just for walking me home, but for everything. I truly enjoyed the evening with you. I think it all worked out better than I could have imagined.”
Loki nods his head gently, the corner of his mouth raising slightly. You see him rock on the heels of his feet. Slowly, the two of you move closer together. Loki leans down, staring at your lips, but eventually his lips land on your cheek giving you an affectionate peck. 
You can’t help, but laugh. 
Loki looks at you puzzled, “What is it?” 
“Oh, nothing.” you say before rising to stand on your tiptoes and catch his mouth with your lips. For a moment, he stands there shocked, but eventually relaxes. His hands gently hold the side of your face. 
When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours. He tries to hold back a boyish laugh, but once you start to laugh again with him, he can’t resist it anymore; the happiness he feels.
You don’t know how long it takes for you to separate from him, occasionally one of you giggles under your breath. Eventually, you walk to the door of your apartment building with an extra skip in your step.
“I’m keeping your jacket,” you smile coyly. “You can get back eventually, as long as you take me out on another date.” 
“Deal.”
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nerdpoe · 1 year
Text
WELL, isn't this a bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.
It's a DC crossover I'm sorry I couldn't resist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny had never been the best at lying under pressure.
In fact, he tended to be the worst at it.
The only reason he hadn't been found out by his parent's was their obsession with their projects.
So when he got mobbed by the local reporters after souping Skulker for the eighth time that week, he may have felt a bit pressured.
They may have asked an unclear question.
And he just...reacted.
"So Mr. Phantom, what do you do with your free time?" One of them shouted, trying to get an answer before the GIW got there.
The sounds of said government agents was getting louder, he could hear the sirens on the GAV getting closer, and the reporters just looked so....like puppies? He couldn't just leave, that'd be rude!
So he pointed to the Well where blob ghosts tended to hang out, a great place for him and other ghosts to grab a quick snack, and fled.
Completely missing the horrified expressions on everyone behind him.
He may have, possibly, made a bad call.
Literally only two days later, there were teddy bears and flowers and notes of appreciation decorating the Well.
Danny stared down at it all, he could feel the eyes of some of his Phan club hiding in the bushes.
He...he'd just wanted a snack? Some nice little energy bar before going on patrol.
What was he supposed to do with this? Was...was he supposed to toss it in the well? What was the protocol for this? He didn't want to be rude!
Fuming, he sat down in front of the offerings and picked them up one by one, to inspect them.
Danny was unaware that this action alone made a fantastic photo shoot of him staring down at a teddy bear contemplatively, sitting in front of what all of Amity now thought was his final resting place.
The photo also caught a certain mayor in the background, glaring at him.
~~~~~~
Danny had been on patrol, per usual, and had been about to duke it out with Ember until she'd paused, looked down, and asked exactly what the fuck was happening to their snack bar.
Danny, knowing he would probably get decked if it was a distraction but also wanting to know, looked beneath them.
There...was a protest?
The GIW and his parents were attempting to push through a huge crowd of Amity citizens that were surrounding the well.
There were police cars, Vlad looked like he was frothing at the mouth trying to stop said officers from going to the well with some strange looking equipment, and some sad looking man in a trench coat standing next to the well, staring down into it.
"I...don't know? I think there may have been a misunderstanding."
"Oh."
Danny and Ember stared at each other.
Ember lost her patience first.
"Just go! Get down there and correct the misunderstanding!"
"No, I don't want to involved in that mess!"
"So it is your fault!"
"I panicked!"
"Baby Pop if I lose my favorite snack bar-"
No one on the ground paid attention to the spirits arguing above them.
~~~~~
"Listen to me, that lying little shit-!"
"Mayor Vlad, please step back; this is now an active crime scene."
John ignored the obviously guilty as sin Mayor as he stared down the well. There was....a lot of ambient death in there.
His only real purpose was to ensure that the many, many morons in this town did not anger their local ghostly hero. Angry ghosts straight from the realms were no joke.
There was also a clear violation being done as well, if those idiots dressed in white suits meant anything.
The 'Anti-Ecto Acts' they kept quoting did not exist. He would know. He was The John Constantine, stupid laws like that were something he regularly stayed on top of. Those laws, while proposed, had never actually passed.
He'd made sure of that.
It had been relatively easy to have Deadman overshadow the right politician and point out how they were clearly just a front to remove meta rights, and the Law never made it past it's first draft.
He'd already taken a picture of the men and sent it to the Dark Knight himself; let the worlds greatest detective take a crack at who was pretending to be a part of the government and figure out the why. John had enough shit to do.
"Oh, kid," he sighed, finally stepping away from the well as the cops got closer, "what a right mess you got yourself into."
A strange machine was lowered into the well; one of those things that could see below the surface, John supposed. A regular camera was attached to it as well, just in case it wasn't needed.
It didn't even take fifteen minutes.
The cop operating the larger machine called over a higher up. They stared at the screen.
Then they started corralling the populace away from the well, setting up crime tape.
John stayed a respectful distance away, but still stayed close enough to read lips.
Multiple corpses.
Adults and children.
Some animals as well.
Serial killer.
With so much death, no wonder there was so much activity in this town. No wonder Phantom was obsessed with saving people.
Most people.
There was at least one he Did Not Get Along With.
The occultist let his eyes slide over to the mayor, who was trying to stutter out excuses.
It looked like someone had been busy.
@bathildaburp @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @mimilikey @gabbypie64 @screamingtofillthevoid @thedragonqueen1998 @dannyphantomphan
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gloomwitchwrites · 22 days
Note
Hiii, how about our fav 141 men with to a very clumsy reader? Like e.g. I'm someone who keeps accidentally bumping into people while walking because apparently I can't walk a straight line???
Is that something you'd write?:3
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Is this something I'd write? Absolutely. This prompt is so cute and the perfect opportunity to write a few drabbles. Thank you for sending it in, and thank you for your patience as I work through all the requests.
Find the Imagines & What If Masterlist HERE
Content & Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, canon-typical cursing
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price:
“I’m doing it.”
“No. You’re not.”
You raise the hammer.
“Put it down,” says Price pointing at the ground.
“I’m fully capable.”
“Yes,” admits Price, slowly. “But you always hurt yourself.”
Your husband isn’t wrong. Everything you’ve ever hung on the walls has resulted in a throbbing thumb.
“It’ll be different this time.”
Price shrugs. “Go on then.”
With tongue between teeth, you come down on the nail, striking thumb instead of metal. You turn to him, tears in your eyes.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Come here.”
“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’”
“Wouldn’t dare,” laughs Price, cradling your hand.
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
“We need to—”
“The milk—”
“It’s—”
Simon tugs you to the right and you growl in frustration. “Stop pulling on me.”
Simon glances down and you know he’s smirking behind the black balaclava. “You don’t know how to walk in a straight fucking line.”
“What?”
He nods toward an elderly couple. “Nearly ran them down, love.”
You roll your eyes. You’re yanked backward against Simon’s chest. He places both hands on either side of you against the cart.
“Gotta protect the elderly.”
“Fuck off,” you mutter.
Simon presses his lips to the top of your head, grinning.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
“Let me see, love.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
Kyle grabs your wrist and inspects the nasty slice. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner and the knife slipped.
“At least the knife wasn’t dull,” murmurs Kyle as he rinses the wound under cold water. He gently washes it with soap, drying it afterward.
“You need to be more careful,” he says softly.
“You say that every time.”
“I mean it every time. I’m not interested in taking you to the hospital.”
Kyle rotates your wrist, covering the wound with a bandage, and places a soft kiss against the wrappings.
“All done.”
John "Soap" MacTavish:
“Can we—”
“Nope,” says John, shaking his head. “Focus.” He places his hands on your shoulders, urging you forward.
“You don’t need to do that.”
John twists you to the side as you almost collide with an antique tea set.
“Oh, aye. I do,” he mutters, gaze darting everywhere, looking for the next victim.
You’re the hazard. Last time the two of you went antique shopping, John had to hand over most of his cash because you kept knocking things over.
“They pack these places on purpose.”
He kisses the top of your head. “No. It’s just you, love.”
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie
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relaxxattack · 7 months
Note
Piggybacking off the last anon, what is it you like about Jane so much? I find my feelings on her kind of mixed but I lean towards positive.
okay i haven’t read act six in probably like 5 years so bear with me here. *cracks knuckles*
jane is sooo so interesting and it’s really a shame people miss like everything fun about her.
pre-scratch she used her detective work to literally succeed at tearing down the crocker cooperation, to the point that HIC has to fucking abandon ship and head into another universe to have another shot at her evil empire. pre-scratch jane is also fucking hilarious! if you didnt enjoy her antics with john as nannasprite you must just have no heart
meanwhile HIC breaches a new universe, and her FIRST fucking order of business is to NEUTRALIZE JANE CROCKER because of how goddamn detrimental she was to HIC’s plans the first time around.
not ONLY does HIC pump subliminal messaging and brainwashing into nearly every aspect of jane’s life, she also tries to straight up mind control her basically whenever possible! she ALSO sends assassination attempts after jane 24/7! (people will seriously try to say that jane lived a safe normal life… as if she wasn’t almost killed by walking into her backyard.) this is because HIC is fucking scared of jane, as she very well should be!
jane is also NOT a boring weepy annoying crybaby like everyone and their mother complains about. jane is literally the most fucking supportive friend and emotion-repressing dumbass you could ever hope to meet. jane combines john’s emotional repression and jade’s intentional cheerfulness together into one of the most fucked up cases of emotional repression in the whole comic
act 6 suffers from a LOT of shitty writing choices, but it’s not jane’s fault the whole act turns into a soap opera— and she’s ALSO not the only one who acts all soap-opera-y either! literally all of the alpha kids suffer from this, people just like jane the least so they project it all onto her. despite the fact that she did her very fucking best to NEVER talk about her feelings, to the point where she ONLY started telling people about shit when she was mind-controlled or took mind altering substances to make her do so! and you can say “ohhh that’s stupid she shouldn’t repress things in the first place how dumb” but, one she’s sixteen, and two, everyone eats that shit up when it comes from like. literally any other character.
people (cough hs2 writers) act like she would actually be “pushy” with a relationship on jake— as if she wasn’t literally the one who helped him make the decision to explore dating dirk?? because she thought it was the right thing to do???
jane is incredibly thoughtful and mature and people really throw all of those traits out of the window with preference for a version of the story where she Comes Inbetween Their Fave Gay Pairing as if she wasn’t, again, the one who got them together. jane is also extremely interesting in terms of queerness; she’s got the makings of a really interesting arc, not to mention she’s the only human girl that dresses mainly masc! there’s a lot there that people just don’t care to explore.
people just have less patience for the prospit kids in general. not to mention homestuck fans love to be misogynistic and berate jane for stuff they love the men doing, or claim she’s coming between them when she’s not, etc etc. and then because no one was writing fun meta posts about her, nobody ever rereads the comic to grab little scenes or lines to expand the online discussion about her! and then because there’s no discussion about her, people assume she’s boring and don’t go looking for bits to start discussing, which cycles on and on forever until we have the ripple effects we see of that misogyny today. which mostly consists of, “oh i hate jane because she was a villain is hs2”, or, “i know hs2 isn’t canon but i still don’t care for jane because she doesn’t do anything that interests me.” (and she’s only not interesting because of the cycle i mentioned before causing NO ONE to have meta discussion about her).
idk, it’s been a while since ive read so i could be talking out my ass but that’s what i’ve got.
TL;DR: jane is fucking COOL, she just suffers from intentional fandom ignorance. and she’s also a canonically hot, fat, masc woman, so i don’t know what else you could possibly want.
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mystcldydrms · 7 months
Text
ALWAYS ON YOUR SIDE - TOMMY SHELBY
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prompt: "I'm always on your side." - requested by @peakyswritings
pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none (let me know if you find any)
notes: I haven't written for tommy in forever. I really missed it. I hope you all enjoy this.
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The door to your husband’s office stood ajar. You could see the light from the room illuminating the darkened hallway as you made your way towards the room. Once you stood in front of it, you peeked inside, seeing Tommy with his face in his hands, his elbows propped up on the desk.
If he knew that you were watching him, he would sit up properly. He would show you his strong side and not the vulnerable one he was presenting now. Of course, you would see right through him. You have been married for quite some time, and even before your marriage, you had been friends for years.
You watched Tommy for a little while longer, thinking he would move, but he stayed in that exact same position.
A sad sigh left your lips. You smoothed down your nightgown before you lifted one of your hands, and knocked on the door.
You didn’t enter the room right away. You waited for your husband to say something and when he did, you opened the door properly. His elbows weren’t propped up on the desk anymore. He had smoothed down his hair, his eyes looking intently to the door until he noticed it was you. His eyes instantly softened, a small smile gracing his lips while you closed the door behind you.
You walked over to where he was, not stopping at the chair that was lined up in front of his desk. You walked around it, so you could be close to your husband.
“Isn’t it a bit too late for you to still be awake?”
You raised your eyebrows, an amused smile on your lips as you shook your head. You dropped a kiss on the top of your husband’s head before you moved to stand behind him, your hands finding his shoulders. You started massaging his shoulder blades, an almost inaudible groan leaving his lips.
“I can stay up past midnight.”
“Barely.”, Tommy stated, earning him a light slap against his upper arm before you returned to your previous action.
“The question is, why are you still up? Two hours ago, you told me you would join me in bed soon.”
You could feel Tommy tense up a little bit. You tried to ease him up again by massaging not just his shoulders but also his neck. You knew it helped him, yet his eyes kept staring straight ahead. Something was bothering him.
“Tell me, love. You know you can talk to me.”
You pressed your lips lightly against his neck, kissing him gently before you removed yourself from him. Nevertheless, you stayed close to him. You leaned against his desk, looking him deep into his blue eyes, waiting for him to talk to you.
“It’s nothing.”, he said, although he knew it wouldn’t convince you. Tommy didn’t want to disturb your peace with his schemes and business.
He took one of your hands in his, his fingers lightly playing with yours before he pulled you on his lap. You smiled up at him, his lips pressing a loving kiss on yours.
Oh, how you loved having Tommy to yourself. Your husband was a different man when it was just the two of you. Once his family joined you, he would change, not much, but slightly. And when you were accompanied by his business partners, he was even more unlike the Tommy that was with you at that moment. That was the Tommy you least liked.
“Will you tell me about it now?” you whispered against his lips, kissing him once more, his arms wrapped around your body, pressing you close against him.
“John and Arthur aren’t as convinced of our next project as I thought they would be. It’s not stressing me out, but it makes things a bit harder.” he finally confessed, and even though he tried his best to stay confident, you were able to make out the change in his eyes.
Although he did things on his own, he always liked having his brothers with him. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but even Tommy Shelby needed someone by his side from time to time.  
“I’m always on your side.”, you stated confidently, pressing another kiss on his lips. “So, if you need anything or you want me to be anywhere, let me know.”
Tommy immediately shook his head. His lips pressed kisses to cheeks before he took your face into his hands and stared intently into your eyes.
“I don’t want you anywhere near what I’m doing, okay? You will stay here. I want you to stay out of my troubles.”
You knew he was being serious. He had told you this before. But you wanted to help. You didn’t care about what could happen, however, Tommy knew better.
You couldn’t help but nod your head. There was no need to fight your husband. He would try anything, in his willpower, to keep you safe and out of his business.
His thumbs traced circles on your cheeks. A defeated sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in and kissed him again. This time, you didn’t pull away. Your lips moved in sync. You poured your love for him into the kiss, your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
“You’re very stubborn. I hope you know this,” you mumbled into the kiss, giggling lightly as you felt him squeeze your hips.
“I learned from the best.”
The two of you stayed entangled for a while, lips interlocked. Until you had to pull away to breathe. Yet you stayed close to Tommy, your foreheads lightly touching.
“I think it is time to go to bed.”, you said, getting up from Tommy’s lap. “You too, mister Shelby.”, you told him, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Don’t make me wait again.”
“I don’t intend to. Who knows what you could do to me.”
Tommy winked at you teasingly, making you laugh. He got up from his chair, pushing it close to the desk before he made his way over to where you were.
You waited for him at the door, shrugging your shoulders before both of you left his office, walked through the hallway of your home and made your way to your bedroom.
“Oh, I won’t tell you what I do to you. That’s my little secret.”
You grinned up at your husband, helping him out of his clothes until the only thing he was wearing were his undergarments. You put your hands on his naked chest, gliding upwards to his shoulders until your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at the back of his head.
“But I know what we could do now. I’m not that tired.”
You took one step closer to him, his lips immediately crashing on yours. His hands slid to your thighs, lifting you up from the floor. Your legs wrapped around his body as Tommy moved you over to your bed, laying you down on it gently.
“Great idea.”, he mumbled against your lips before his hands slid under your nightgown. A moan escaped your lips, and you knew sleep wouldn’t come so soon.
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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
Text
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FIRST IMPRESSIONS (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)
summary: eddie faces the perils of being a coffee shop opener, and meets you. you, who's so damn optimistic it should be annoying. you, who makes the job that has given him trouble seem like a cake walk. you, who seemingly bleeds sunshine. god, he should really hate you.
warnings: TWO uses of "y/n", fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), PHYSICAL descriptors used for reader (she has a nose ring and a septum piercing! that's all), eddie is just a bitter and grumpy idiot.
wc: 5.2k
a/n: i apologize in advance for all the technical 'barista' talk in reference to positions. i tried to elaborate on a few of them, haha. also... yes. i gave reader two nose piercings. it's definitely not even more self-projection psh. (because i have three)
the full menu
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Eddie Munson is not a morning person.
So, why, for the life of him, he ended up as an opener, he couldn’t tell you. 
It had been a snowball effect. He got tired of working odd jobs here and there to produce enough cash to slip Wayne for bills, decided the quick change made off of fixing up neighbors’ cars or mowing lawns just wasn’t cutting it for his desired spending habits. He was tired of being so restricted by his misfortune; he was tired of watching Wayne pull long shifts only to continue living paycheck to paycheck. He was tired of his friends like Harrington and Buckley having money from their part time gig at the movie store to freely agree to impromptu late nights at Benny’s or seeing the latest slasher films in the theater as they premiered while he had to deliberate over counting change to see if he even had the funds to join in. He was tired of eyeing that guitar in the mall and constantly telling himself one day. 
Eddie Munson had been tired. But now, as he forced himself awake most mornings before the sun even rose, he was exhausted.
Originally, he’d wanted to be a closer. He didn’t mind being the clean up crew, having to spend late nights in a coffee shop sweeping up grounds and scrubbing away the stickiness of the day. But then the hiring manager that interviewed him had hinted towards the fact that their store already had enough closers when he’d spotted Eddie’s availability, made a few off comments about how what they really needed was a couple brave souls to take over opening shift, and that tiresome cycle rang in Eddie’s ears. Before he even had the chance to think it through, in his desperation, he’d insisted that oh, actually, my availability is completely open. I don’t mind working earlier than that. 
What bullshit. Eddie definitely minded working earlier than that. He more than minded it — he loathed it.
Long story short, it had been a series of unfortunate events that led Eddie to where he was now. In his van, fifteen minutes early, staring out at a parking lot bathed in the lingering night as he fought to keep his eyes open. 
The clock on his dash read 4:46 in a taunting blink, flickering against his bleary eyesight and making him question every decision in his life that had led him here. Adjusting to the new job had been easy enough — his trainer was nice enough, learning how to make drinks and what routines were required in the morning had been meticulous but rewarding — except for the time. It wasn’t just his start time that tortured him vehemently; shifts seem to pass miserably slow, the seconds dragging their feet in no hurry to get anywhere in particular. The clock didn’t care if Eddie yearned for his bed and a few extra hours of sleep gifted by a nap. Traffic didn’t either, when he’d hit the highways and catch just the beginnings or the tail end of the morning rush.
You’d think he’d complain more about the commute. But the gas spent on the twenty minute drive to the town over was the least of his concerns.
“Fuckin’ John,” Eddie mutters when a large truck pulls up to the drive thru, a notable regular he’d begun to recognize after not even a month of working there. They had just recently changed their opening time (they used to open an hour earlier, his manager had informed him. Eddie had nearly burst into grateful tears that he’d never experienced that crime of humanity.) 
None of his coworkers had arrived yet. Most lived closer, able to garner extra snoozes on their alarms and shorter drives of contemplation. Eddie only ever envied them on mornings like today.
“We don’t open for, like, another forty minutes, asshole,” Eddie curses out loud to himself, counting down the time until John gives up and drives away. The man would just circle the store like a vulture anyways. He always did; he always had to be the first customer, grabbing his ridiculous coffee order before scurrying off to play cards at the casino, “How do you come here every fuckin’ day and not know that?” 
It took the older man a full four minutes before he finally roughly shifted his truck back into drive, being the farthest thing from gentle as he hit his gas and jerked his vehicle out of the drive thru line. Eddie couldn’t see him clearly through the stubborn darkness, but he could easily imagine that look of irritation at not receiving the caramel frappucino with a quad shot that he seemed to feel entitled to. 
God, that man was a dick. 
Eddie nearly misses another coworker pulling up to park beside him during the spectacle. 
By this point, he’s learned what cars all his coworkers drive. 
Carmen, the fellow barista who had trained him but he now rarely worked with due to her availability being a bit later in the day, drove a bright red 2012 Kia Soul that had certainly seen better days. Nicole, one of the shift leads he worked with often during his opens, drove a small and silver Nissan Versa. The year is lost on him, but he’s willing to bet it was a few years old at this point. James, another shift lead who went by Jamie and never had much to say, drove a Volkswagen that looked to be straight out of the 70s. And that was just the beginning, the ones he could think of off the top of his head while he was still waking up inside his van. 
The car parked beside him wasn’t any of these. He didn’t recognize it at first glance, and found himself doing a double take as his face scrunched up. 
A Jeep. A two-door Jeep Wrangler with vibrant, chipped yellow paint now sat idle beside him. 
Who the fuck drove a yellow Jeep? 
He can’t even bother to be annoyed or fatigued anymore with the mystery presently before him. He can’t see through the tint of the windows, can’t make out the silhouette of who it was. He was well aware that he hadn’t been acquainted with all of his coworkers quite yet – there was a plethora of baristas in the store he’d only heard spoken of in passing rather than properly meeting – but it had seemed like the people who opened always came from the same rotation of sorry suckers. 
Nicole’s car pulls up. So whoever drove the Jeep was not one of the shift leads. 
Five minutes to 5:00 AM, Nicole’s car door opens first and Eddie can hear the Jeep’s engine kill. He’s quick to fumble with his own keys, pulling them from the ignition in a haste and throwing a hand out to blindly grab his apron from his passenger seat.
A deep shade of green. Everyone had one or two of them laying around, and they were the root of the nickname for all new hires: green beans. He had just finally gotten the one embroidered with his name a little over a week ago, and his manager had apologized profusely as she swore it usually didn’t take that long.
Eddie really didn’t care. The moment he started wearing the apron with his name on it, customers had taken to randomly addressing him by it, and it made him fucking uncomfortable. 
“Rise and shine, campers!” Nicole’s voice echoes through the parking lot the moment all three openers are out of their cars. 
Eddie doesn’t answer at first (which isn’t unusual; Nicole was used to his ever-present sleep-deprivation induced silence). He’s too busy nearly tripping over himself as his eyes stay glued on that Jeep, on the door that swings wide open roughly from two parking spaces away as he waits with bated breath. 
Would this new coworker he was about to meet even like him? 
“God, Nicky,” a new voice groans – a girl’s voice.
Ah, fuck. 
Eddie had noticed the mysterious phenomenon of the way everyone who worked here seemed to be attractive to some extent. Nice on the eyes, always smiling and always flirting in a friendly manner to garner more tips. He’d had plenty of bisexual panics in the bathroom anytime one of his coworkers extended that friendly flirtation his way. All the fellow guys (as few as there were) and all the confident girls he’d been in the trenches with – it didn’t matter, they all affected him. 
Hawkins didn’t have nearly as many pretty people. Eddie sort of felt cheated for having lived a mere twenty minutes from a goldmine of such people for so long, completely unaware. But he also felt sort of relieved, knowing that if he were still a teenager barely scraping by in high school, this coffee shop would have been his downfall with awkward stumbles and feelings caught from all those faux smiles and joking winks that his now coworkers laid on heavy with their regulars. 
With this in mind, he doesn’t know why he wasn’t prepared for when you stepped out of the Jeep. Slamming the door shut behind you, your arms were full with an apron that was definitely not green, along with an oversized water bottle and what he thinks is either a cardigan or jacket. A tote bag slung over your shoulder looked to be stuffed full as well. You were a walking cliche for the type of person that people would expect to work at a coffee shop. The type of person that embodied all those jokes of if an alternative person isn’t making my coffee, it’s not going to taste good. 
Eddie should know; he’d been the butt of many of those style of jokes given that he also fit into that category. With his long hair, with his sparse tattoos, with his new nose ring – he knew he was as much of a cliche as you were. 
Didn’t stop him from staring at you, suddenly wide awake. 
“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Nicole jokes as she rounds the front of your Jeep, stopping and looking between you and Eddie before she says to you, “You’d think after a month’s vacation you’d be happier to see me.” 
You take two steps forward, lining up right between Eddie and Nicole, and suddenly contort your face to be such an over-exaggerated smile that it’s nearly a grimace. Eddie is so caught up in the scrunch of your nose, he nearly misses the way you grit out a sarcastic “Better?” from between your teeth. 
“Oh, that’s the winner,” Nicole cackles, keys jangling as she shakes them and leads the two of you towards the front of the store. Over her shoulder, she continues to joke, “Keep on smiling like that, and I sense a twenty dollar tip in our future.” 
Eddie still hasn’t said a word. What is he supposed to say? All he can do is trail slightly behind you, doing everything in his power to not let his eyes roam over your legs or backside. You were just wearing black jeans, in line with the same dress-code everyone else followed, but they were doing you favors. 
“Y’know, I think I already saw John’s truck this morning,” your voice was surprisingly pleasant despite the insinuation Nicole had made that your first impression should be grumpy. Far less gritty than Eddie’s would have been had he spoken up, “Think I can sweet talk that out of him? Maybe I’ll ask about his wife. Or- Oh!” you exclaim, bursting with sudden energy that should give Eddie a headache this early, “Put me on bar! I’ll douse his drink in caramel how he likes, that’s sure to tug on his wallet- Sorry, I mean heart-strings.” 
Nicole continues to laugh as she fumbles with unlocking the door, and it’s not lost on Eddie that he has never made any of the fellow baristas laugh like that. Although, to be fair, he has never been quite as enthusiastic as you. He didn’t seemingly bleed sunshine like you. Here the three of you were, outside in the dusky beginnings of a morning, and he could have sworn that the sun had already risen from the light that seemed to emit from you. 
It should have made him nauseated. It kind of did, actually. 
You turn suddenly, just as Nicole finally turns the lock, and face him. Your smile is subtle, eyes so wide he wouldn’t notice the bags even if you had any. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
You stick your hand out and he can see you sticky with it – with hopefulness, with friendliness, with kindness. His stomach churns. 
Nope. Not a chance. 
The moment Nicole opens the door, he’s barely muttering his name back to you, and is rushing past you to enter the store. His shoulder brushes against yours, and he has to tell himself repeatedly he did not just shoulder-check you. He has to tell himself that it’s okay he didn’t meet your level of enthusiasm. He has to tell himself that you’re just another barista, someone else who makes coffee for a living and that this new energy you bring is just due to that vacation that Nicole mentioned. 
It’ll fade. He’ll be fine. At some point, his stomach has to stop churning. 
It doesn’t. 
Your energy doesn’t falter, to his surprise. Not only are you sunshine personified, but you’re also damn good at your job. Eddie can only imagine how sluggish he’d be if he had a month off from anything, especially a job, but it doesn’t even seem as though you have to dust any of your skills off for the day. 
You offer to take over opening up the ‘drive thru’ aspect of the store, brewing all the coffees and teas without complaint as Eddie lingers in his misery of shuffling through the tasks of opening up the food portion of the store. As he’s sorting the croissants to be replenished, implementing the technique of FIFO (first in, first out), he can hear Nicole still cackling at whatever you’re saying in the back of the house as you clean the syrup pumps. When he’s labeling all the new breakfast sandwiches for the day with their best-by dates, he can hear you humming a few feet away from him over the clicking of the sticker gun in his hand. And when the clock finally reads 5:30 to signify the time of opening, you’re putting on your apron, tying it around yourself more securely than Eddie always lazily did. Even your black apron seemed to fit on you better than his did, as if you were more made for this job than he was. As if you had years of experience to carry on your shoulders, and God, were you carrying them with grace. Constantly smiling, constantly joking. He’d once thought Nicole incapable of even breaking a grin, but he’d hardly gone longer than a minute without hearing her laugh during the time of your opening together. 
God, he sort of hated you. 
You never even mentioned how rudely he’d shrugged off your introduction. Occasionally, he’d even caught you looking his way during the conversation, a soft expression on your face as if you were ready to include him in all the inside jokes at a moment’s notice. 
He made sure to consistently stare straight ahead, never once seeming to glance your way when you wore that expression. 
You were just too nice. You were putting all the other openers to shame right before his eyes, himself included, and he hated you for it. 
Once the store is open, John is the first customer in drive, as always. Eddie wears the headset (the one you’d grabbed for him, sanitizing it and slotting a freshly charged battery in without him even asking. God, he hated you.) and listens in to you greeting the awful bastard, and his stomach does another flip. 
“Good morning, John,” you chirp happily. He couldn’t see your face from around the corner, but he could only imagine that you were wearing a smile. Maybe you even had that damn camera on so that the customers could see you just as you could see them. 
He waits. Anxious to hear John’s grumpy reply, be reassured when someone else also didn’t match your energy. The man had never been pleasant a single day that Eddie had worked thus far. Simply barking out his order, acting offended when someone didn’t recognize him. 
If anyone was going to be cruel to you, Eddie would bet all five dollars in his pocket that it would be John. 
But even John wasn’t fucking mean to you. 
He had replied in the most cheerful tone Eddie had ever heard leave the man’s throat.
“And who am I speaking to?” he almost sounds teasing. It fans at Eddie’s irrational irritability. 
“I’ll give you three guesses.” 
He hates the way your customer service voice was so similar to just your normal voice. A bit squeakier, a bit more polite, but still bottled sunshine. He hates how nicely it caressed his eardrum as compared to the grate of some of the other barista’s tones while on drive thru. He hates that some deep part of him secretly hoped that Nicole stationed you there your entire shift, and that if she did, he would fight tooth and nail to keep this damn headset on. Just to hear your voice. Just to hear your light.
“Only three?” John’s gruff voice scoffs, “There’s only one person who works here who is this damn cheery before eight in the morning.” 
Nicole laughs from where she’s bent over to put down a few of the sanitizer buckets by the bars, shaking her head as she also listens in over her headset. 
“I’m making it easy on you, then,” you say as you suddenly come into view for Eddie. He’s trying to replenish the sandwiches and protein boxes that the store keeps on display for the customer by the register, still working through his morning tasks as he realizes you’ve completed yours.
Man, he fucking hated you. 
You don’t miss a beat as you begin to tap one of the espresso machines awake, punching all the right buttons to pull John’s espresso shot before you turn to make your way towards the cold beverage station. “You still drinking the same thing, old man?” 
“I’m not old.”
“Right, and I’m not already over-caffeinated,” that’s a lie. He hasn’t seen you touch a drop of coffee this entire time, “Just pull on up. It’s a billion dollars, or whatever your total normally is.” 
John’s cackle is cut off by him pulling away from the speaker box, effectively disconnecting the two way mic. Even Eddie finds himself nearly grinning at your reply, but he stops himself. Because you’re annoying. Because no one should be this witty this early. Because the ability to make others laugh this often should be a cardinal sin. 
He stops the grin because he hates you… right?
You do manage to get a tip out of John. Eddie sees it with his own two eyes. It’s a quick deposit of whatever spare change the stingiest man Eddie had ever had the displeasure of meeting has lying around his car, and it happens so quickly while you’re leant out the window to pass the man his receipt that he always requests that Eddie almost convinces himself it didn’t happen. But it did. He saw it with his own two eyes, as he tripped over his two left feet, effectively nearly knocking Nicole over with him. 
The look she gives him makes his stomach twist this time as his heart lurches. It’s a knowing look. It’s despicable. 
She doesn’t say a word until later into the shift, once more baristas are scattered across the floor and peak is in full swing. Eddie isn’t kept on food, and you aren’t kept to manage taking orders or run the window – he’s the one reassigned to the window position as you are moved to the cafe bar. He’s tasked with quick connections before handing out drinks to bored business people, as you fly through making drinks for both mobile orders and any customers that choose to physically walk into the store. 
Nicole puts herself on the position of ‘DTO’ – she greets the drive thru customers over the headset and takes their orders, her tone not nearly as honey-sweet as yours had been. She’s lacking in jokes, she sticks to a script that must have taken her years to make sound even remotely natural. 
Eddie’s just grateful he doesn’t have to wear a headset and listen to her directly in his ear. 
Rush has died down when she turns to him and cocks a brow with her hip. He has the window shut, fiddling with his thumbs as he anxiously awaits for the partner on drive bar to finish making the iced white mocha for the customer currently sitting on their phone. He’s sure the look she shoots his way is in regards to the fact that he isn’t ‘connecting with the customer’ or putting himself through insufferable small talk. 
It isn’t.
“Do you not like her?” 
His head shoots up, fully meeting her curious gaze, “Excuse me?”
“Y/N,” she clarifies, “Do you… not like her?” 
“I don’t know her,” he weakly defends himself.
He had been a dick to you this morning, hadn’t he? What a weak defense for being a bad person to someone who makes this entire store glow simply by being here. 
“You should give her a chance,” Nicole speaks softly as she leans back on the counter that holds the order screens, “I… She can be a lot, but she’s one of our best. Think of her as the people’s princess, so to speak.” 
He knows you’re one of the best here, just in the short few hours he’s caught glimpses of you. He has no idea how you’re so quick with making drinks, or how you manage to hold such genuine sounding conversations with all of the customers who stand right at the hand off plane. He just gets irritable when they stare at him with prying eyes as he tries (and fails) to keep up his pace. 
“I… I can see it,” he nods, bringing a hand up to pinch his bottom lip, “I mean, John clearly loves her.” 
Nicole gives a pointed look, “He does. She doesn’t take his shit – him and his wife bring her gifts for every holiday. They know her damn birthday and bring her cards. It’s insufferable.” 
He cracks a shy smile at that, “They bring her birthday cards?”
“They bring her birthday cards,” she echoes back to him. Eddie finally receives the drink he was waiting on and turns, quick to hand it out with a soft mutterance of ‘have a good day’. Once he’s finished and the drive thru is officially empty, he faces her once more, “You don’t have to like her as much as everyone else. I know you’re still new and adjusting but… she’s one of the best for a reason.” 
“Because she can turn out drinks like it’s no one’s business?” Eddie questions, side stepping and lifting his chin in your direction as you finish yet another drink, as if to prove his point. 
“That,” Nicole shrugs her shoulders and pushes off the counter, “And because she actually gives a damn.” Eddie’s brows shoot up as he waits for her to continue, “She knows these customers, man. Learns about their lives, hears them out. Remembers the small things. She’s the same way with all of us, too. She once got turned down from being a shift lead because she’s too nice. Have you ever heard of someone being shot down from a job for that?” Nicole pauses, and Eddie can only shake his head, feeling the ends of his ponytail brush the back of his neck, “She has the management experience – she knows how to run this place. Sometimes, I see it. The way she steps up and takes responsibility. She chooses to be that kind even if it makes her seem like a nut job. She chooses to let people hear walk all over her, because she cares. She cares more about treating us as humans or whatever than she does an upgrade in pay.”
“Makes sense they wouldn’t make her a shift, then,” Eddie dares to say, which earns him a sharp look, “I mean, management positions aren’t for the weak of heart. You have to make tough decision-”
“Once, a man was harassing one of our baristas. This dude who was married. Came in like clockwork and picked up a mobile order under his wife’s name, wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept flirting with one of our poor girls. I’ve never really been afraid of her, but I was every time that man stepped foot in here,” Nicole grabs a rag and starts to wipe down the counters with a low whistle, as if she isn’t spilling serious store lore right now to Eddie. As if she isn’t bringing on more questions than answers, “She’s not weak of heart. She’s good of heart. And if she hadn’t been on vacation, she would have been your trainer. You don’t have to like her, like I said, but it would do you well to give her a chance.” 
Trainer? 
Carmen had mentioned something about another barista being the usual trainer. She had even tried to joke around with Eddie that he would have liked the other girl better, something about how she was funnier and easier to get along with. 
You. You were the girl she’d been talking about. The people’s princess, as Nicole had put it. 
Eddie opens his mouth to say something in reply, although he isn’t quite sure what he can say. 
God, he had been a fucking dick. And Nicole was matching sure he felt all seven levels of Hell, of guilt, for it. 
It ate him alive for the rest of his shift. His stomach churned with it. All that guilt gnawed on him from the inside out, using his bones for toothpicks, and he already knew what he needed to do without Nicole saying it.
“Did that hurt?”
The two of you got off your shifts at the same time, as most openers do. At ten o’clock precisely, Nicole was shooing the two of you off the floor, two fresh baristas taking both your places as you scurried to the back. 
He’d overheard the joke made ten minutes prior, Nicole speaking to a fellow shift lead about who would be replacing you, already mourning your absence. She didn’t make such a joke about Eddie.
“Huh?” you look up quickly from where you had been carefully rolling and folding your apron into a bundle. 
Eddie gestures vaguely to his nose again, repeating himself, “Did it hurt?” 
It was the best he could do – pathetic small talk about the nose piercings of yours that had caught his eye. 
You grin radiantly, and he tries to swallow down that instinctive voice that whisper hate, hate, hate. “Which one?”
Right. You had multiple nose piercings. A hoop that matches Eddie’s own, only on the left nostril rather than the right like his, and that septum piercing. He’d probably look dumb to ask about the nostril considering he had his done, and should already know that it definitely doesn’t feel nice. 
“The septum,” he clarifies, “That combination, though, um… It looks sick.” 
Oh, he sounds so fucking stupid right now. He wishes the sticky floors beneath the two of you would split and swallow him whole. 
“Eh,” you shrug, finally glancing away from him to finish wrapping the strings of your apron snugly around the bundle you’d made of it, “My nostril honestly hurt worse. If you’re thinking of getting one,” you pause, and look up, offering him a look of pure mischief. Heart, stomach, mind. They all lurch with that look as you whisper, as if letting him in on a secret, “Do it.”
“I don’t think I could pull it off,” he’s quick to blurt out, eyes widening, resisting the urge to take several steps back and put distance between you two. 
Fuck, he didn’t hate you. It hits him like a truck – this shift had managed to slip through his fingers so quickly. The fastest one to date. Between all of your jokes, all of the laughter you managed to pull out of others and that he had to fight down, the day had flown past as easily as a shift really could. 
He regrets spending the shift moping. He regrets ignoring your introduction. He regrets not giving you a chance. 
“I think you could,” your tote bag now hangs from your shoulder, and you have your keys prepared in one hand as you hold your water bottle in the other, “Everyone says that, but if you can already pull off the nostril, adding a little septum to the mix never hurt nobody.” 
Is your face stuck like that? Stuck with a subtle and shy smile pulling at the lips, making the corners of your eyes crinkle in the slightest? 
He hopes not. If it is, he’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with you. He’ll always be too distracted, too infuriated, too overwhelmed. 
“You’re a very optimistic person,” he almost lets it slip out as a scoff, but refrains, Nicole’s words echoing in his mind. It would do you well to give her a chance.
“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” you casually say to him. 
“Did you just quote Star Wars to me?” 
Eddie is aghast, staring at you with even more awe than before. And you – oh, you look so goddamn proud of yourself and the way you’ve left him shellshocked, smugly lifting your chin and smiling more intentionally. You’re smiling so widely that your eyes pinch nearly fully shut and even more of that sunshine is now flooding the backroom up to Eddie’s knees.
“I don’t know,” you start to step around Eddie, carrying an air of arrogance that would only be so endearing from someone who had been proven to be as kind as you were, “Did I?”
You never give him the chance to answer. You leave him there, standing in the middle of the back of house and not even clocked out yet as you walk away with a bounce in your step and a quick have a good day, Eddie! over your shoulder.
When he’s finally off the clock and having given a half-ass goodbye to everyone on the floor (which no one replied to as enthusiastically as they had yours, by the way), you’re still sitting in your damn yellow Jeep. You give him a slight wave through the windshield as he makes a beeline for his van, and he doesn’t even bother to return it. Pretends he doesn’t see it. Looks straight ahead. If Nicole is watching from the drive thru window that serves as a front row seat to the entire interaction, she’s going to rip him a new one next shift they work together. 
God, Eddie wishes he hated you. 
Instead, he’s left hoping that next time he opens, you’re there to make the time fly. Maybe he’ll be the one quoting Star Wars to you. If he can ever get the stick out of his ass, that is.
taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles
(tag list is open - if you'd like to be added, let me know!)
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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months
Text
Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 20
I literally got second-hand anxiety hearing, “How many numbers do you think you’ll have by tomorrow?”. I was like. TOMORROW? They are Not ready. The only reason the rooftop works out is because they’re the fucking Beatles. No one else would pull that out of their butts so well. 
If only John could’ve listened to Glyn about Klein. smh
Classic Paul. Starts out saying “us” ends up just talking about John. “The best bit of us always has been, and always will be, is when we’re backs against the wall and we’ve been rehearsing, rehearsing, rehearsing. And he knows it’s a take on the dub. And he does it great.” It’s okay, Paul. We all know you like to get him up against a wall. No but seriously, Paul is not okay about John. 
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Takes every opportunity to flirt, doesn’t he?
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“I can’t wait to work here, you know . . . I mean, here in our life, it’s like home.” It’s the gentleness, yeah. But it’s the focus, too. Most people (I know I would) would be so done with him and his anxiety spirals and his neuroses and over-thinking on and on and on by this point. John probably is, but he shows no sign of that fatigue at all. He is zeroed in on working him through this. He’s done it a million times before, and he’s ready to do it as many more times as Paul needs. Ugh, they make me into such a sap!
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“Yeah, well that’s why I’m talking to John, not you.” If Paul can talk like that to George Martin, one of the most respected men in his life, when he’s in the middle of a thing with John, imagine how he must’ve bullied other people that tried to worm their way in. 
That smile he gives George though! That’s how he got away with all his shit, isn’t it? So fucking cute.
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“I agree with you, I think it’s disappointing, but all right, we only got to seven. Let’s do seven.” The tone of voice, man. So. Fucking. Gentle. No wonder Paul can't stand the projected "acerbic, tough Lennon" shit. If that was how someone treated you and took care of you? And then everyone acts like that part of them just didn't exist, and emphasizes the parts of them that they themselves hated and actively worked against? Yeah I'd be pretty pissed too.
Glyn reassuring Paul that there’s no reason they can’t come back and do a TV show later. Yeah, fifty years later. 
John’s eyes constantly flicking back to Paul as George is talking . . . 
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George really does take so much better care of himself than the other three at this time. Pictured here, silently begging viewers like you to chip in just ninety-eight cents toward his freedom.
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I actually think, though, that if Ringo had said he didn’t want to go on the roof either at that moment, that they wouldn’t have done it. I think they look to him for common sense in their decision-making, and Ringo saying he didn’t want to do it really might’ve broken the whole thing.
George’s reaction to Ringo voting for the roof VS John. It’s giving tragic heroine VS villain origin story
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Honestly heartbroken at the “I love you, blue”. How many times did John just straight up say those words to Paul only for Paul to be completely unresponsive? That genuinely hurt to watch.
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The tiny little looks they give each other. “Okay. We got this.”
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“Fuck all that. I’m just gonna do me for a bit.” Good for you, baby. 
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“I had a good dream last night, you’re black or you’re white, you want equal rights.” I know some people say it’s hypocritical or preachy or whatever, but I ADORE this John. Look how fucking happy he’s making Billy right now and then talk to me about how John’s political side is meaningless. I think it’s beautiful.
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I think it’s actually too embarrassing for them at this point to sing Two of Us without being insane.
“We’re all sleeping at Georgie’s tonight. Get in the mood.” Oh how I wish they actually had. I mean, maybe they did. Someone write the fic!
Oh, the “who knows, Yoko,” moment. It’s so embarrassing. The fact that there was just no response whatsoever. Yeesh. 
So many nerves when I saw the camera zooming into that circled date with “Rooftop Concert” written on it. What is wrong with me?
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mistydeyes · 6 months
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hello! can you please do headcanons of 141 boys with nepo baby!reader?
ahh thank you sm for requesting! this was so creative and UGH i totally wish in another life i could be a nepo baby with all of life's luxuries
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summary: When the 141 met you, you had done an amazing job keeping your repo!baby status under wraps. What happens when your starstrucked boyfriend finally finds out?
pairing: Task Force 141 x fem!nepo baby!reader
warnings: swearing
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John Price
Surprised but happy you aren't one of those stuck up ones (*cough* *cough* Kendall Jenner *cough* cough*)
"Hey love, these came in for you today," your boyfriend, John, said as he heaved in a large bouquet of flowers with an ornate envelope attached
You groaned loudly as you opened the envelope and the room filled with the aroma of fresh red roses
You skimmed over the letter before tossing it back onto your kitchen island
"Something the matter?" he comforted as he wrapped his arms around you
"They just want me to walk for Victoria Secret," you said as if it was an inconsequential request, "something about how my mum's wings and outfit would fit me perfectly."
At this, you felt the palpable silence and turned to see the bewildered look on John's face
"What I'm getting from this is that you are a model fit for their show and also have a mother who used to be a model for them?" he almost whispered and you nodded in response
He whistled quietly as he pulled you back into his arms
"I knew you were gorgeous but it's nice to hear that others think the same," he joked and you lightly smacked at his chest
"My mum always wanted me to get into modeling but after my last show as a teenager, I decided civilian life was more for me"
He nodded as he put aside the letter and put the flowers in a more respectable place
"Well I am glad you chose that," he replied, "don't think I would be able to meet a world class model."
You cocked an eyebrow and laughed slightly at his response
"You're telling me! I'm lucky for a shot at the respectable military captain who looks absolutely dashing in a bonnie hat"
With that, he gave you a soft kiss and you giggled as his facial hairs tickled you slightly
"Although, if I get sent any brand deals for shaving cream and beard care, I know the perfect person to give it to"
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish
Overall he is the most excited to find this fun fact out about you
He realizes when you meet with your sister at a local coffee shop
You ran up to her with Johnny closely following behind you and you hugged her excitedly
"Maeve! It is so good to see you again," you smiled, "this is my boyfriend, Johnny"
Your boyfriend did a double take as your sister shook his hand and sat down at the table
"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked quietly and you and your sister shared a look before laughing
"Hmm what project are you working on now?" you asked her as Johnny just watched the interaction
"That's a secret for now," she said mysteriously, "I will tell you we're premiering the show on Max"
Once she said that, it was almost as if a lightbulb went off in his head
"Oh shite," he said a bit too loudly, "you're Maeve! You did that show on Netflix!"
She nodded as she sipped her matcha latte casually
"Wait so if that's you," he said before turning to you, "does this mean you're parents are those famous spy movie directors?"
You nodded as he finally understood but before you could reply, your sister beat you too it
"She was always the studious older sister, chose to go to university here instead of pursuing an acting career," you sister proudly replied as you leaned into Johnny's chest
"To be fair, dad's films were always too ambiguous for me," you joked, "he always loved those off plot twists."
You laughed at the memory and both Johnny and Maeve joined in
After that, you had a pleasant lunch but you definitely needed a tea with lemon and honey after answering all of Johnny's questions
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You were not a nepo baby by conventional means
No, you didn't have parents who were famous actors or singers
You were the worst kind of nepo baby for Kyle
You were the daughter of a General in the British Army
Maybe he should've been clued in by your surprising knowledge of military history and traditions
In fact he did look at you a bit skeptically when you adjusted his ribbons of decorations/medals
"You're a natural at this," he said as he kissed your forehead. "My dad and the internet taught me all I needed to know," you smiled back.
Kyle never did get to ask you who your father was until you were at the Army ball
When he saw one of the decorated Generals making his way to you, he could feel a lump in his throat
Kyle immediately saluted the man and almost lost it when he saw him hug you and spin your around
"Pleasure seeing you here, dad," you beamed at him, "didn't know you could make it to this one!"
As Kyle was putting the pieces together, the small talk ended and your father turned to him
"Sergeant Garrick-" "Yes, sir, that's me" he said, fumbling over his words and causing you to laugh loudly
"I've heard much about you and the missions," your father spoke highly as you looked over anxiously, "just make sure you come back home to my daughter."
With that, he gave Kyle a firm handshake and hugged you before returning back to mingle amongst the other officers and soldiers
Kyle stood there for a moment looking at his hand
"Did that just happen?" "Congratulations Kyle, you survived meeting my father!"
Simon "Ghost" Riley
He does not put the pieces together until something forces him to realize who you actually are (more like whose daughter you are)
"Keep your head down, I think someone's following us," Simon warned you as he lead you down another aisle in the grocer's
For the past hour, there had been a man with a camera had been following you and trying to snap pictures
Simon had been more than observant and was running through scenarios to lose this man without any unnecessary violence
"Oh, they're probably trying to figure out where my parents are staying while they're in town," you said nonchalantly, "probably trying to get the best pictures before the premiere."
At this Simon, pulled you aside and look at you bewildered
"Are they in any danger?" he said as he pulled out his phone to make an urgent call
You giggled a bit before taking his phone from his hand and smiling
"No, no, they're probably just preparing to be harassed by the paparazzi. Nothing they're not used to," you said as you typed a few things into his phone's search browser
"Here, you might have heard of them before from all those superhero action movies," you continued, giving Simon back the phone so he could look at the Wiki page
"So you're saying that you didn't think this was important information to tell me when we started dating?" he asked as he looked back down at you
You rolled your eyes before pulling him along to continue you're shopping
"I honestly didn't think it was that important, Simon," you mumbled, "besides would it affect your decision to date me."
He shook his head as he tried to understand the whole situation and how you were the daughter of two very famous and successful actors
"For such a smart military man, you are a bit dense sometimes," you joked before turning and blocking the titular shot from the camera man with a cereal box
"Not this time!" you yelled triumphantly before Simon took the opportunity to plant a kiss on your cheek
"That's why I dated you."
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